


Save Me

by papermoon2719



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Queen (Band)
Genre: 2019 Brian May, Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Brian May
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-04 10:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18602680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papermoon2719/pseuds/papermoon2719
Summary: Iris Kollins is a 28 year old Expat graduate student who's low on cash. Brian May is a 71 year old divorced rock star astrophysicist. Together they become a little bit 50 Shades of Grey, a little bit Breakfast at Tiffany's, and a whole lot of drama.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had this idea. It's a weird idea. It's a twisted idea. 
> 
> But that's the best kind of idea.
> 
> From that idea, this story was born. I will warn you, this IS 2019 Brian May (just in case you missed it in the tags... and the description). If you have an issue with that, there's no problem, just don't read this. Additionally, if you have a problem with sort-of prostitution, but-not-really-cause-of-reasons, please don't read this. This is also not going to be a story with a super young OC. While I have no problem with that, I just don't identify with it as I'm in my late 20s. So I wrote this more for someone my own age as opposed to those of you who are younger.

“What am I doing?” I mutter to myself, fiddling with the phone in my hand. I look at the screen for the upteenth time, my calendar still filling the screen.

There it is, that little blue line with “ _7:00-Dinner with Brian”._ Originally I'd had “ _Dinner with Dr. May”_ , but that felt too formal. Like having dinner with one of my own professors about my schooling. This dinner was definitely _not_ about my schooling.

“No, it's about being a rock star's sugar baby,” I say harshly. Hearing the words out loud sends simultaneous rushes of shame and excitement through my body, blending together in the most power form of aphrodisiac. I bite my lip and look back up at the house in front of me, then firmly decide that just dinner won't hurt before turning off my car and stepping out into the cool night air.

My nerves return as I approach the door, smoothing my skirt almost obsessively before ringing the bell. I'm about to bolt back to my car when I hear the lock turn and the heavy door swings open, revealing the subject of my nerves.

“Hello, Iris,” he says, a smile on his face. My breath is taken away (not for the first time) at how handsome he is, despite his age. I almost giggle when I see his star-patterned shirt, the signature top three buttons left undone. There's a dusting of dark hair visible and I have to keep from biting my lip.

“Come in,” he invites, stepping back and holding out his arm. We hold eye contact as I do so, and I can't help but be put at ease.

“I'm so glad you came,” he says as he closes the door behind me. I can hear a hint of sadness in his voice and it tugs at my heart. When he turns back to me and I see the warmth in his eyes, I realize there was never really a question of whether or not I would come tonight.

But how did I even get this invite, you ask? What led to me not only meeting a man like Brian May, but somehow catching his eye enough that he now wants me to be a permanent fixture in his life?

Well...

* * *

**Two Weeks Ago**

 

“And now, to present the Dean's Humanitarian Award, please welcome our special guest, Dr. Brian May!”

The banquet hall erupts into applause, some (okay, _me_ ) standing. What? I'm a fan.

Sam, one of my classmates and friend, elbows me in the ribs gently, wiggling her eyebrows.

“You gonna kiss him if you win?”

I roll my eyes as we take our seats again.

Yes, I was nominated by one of my professors. But I don't expect to win. Not when there are so many other nominees, most of whom have done so much more than I did. So I just wave her off, turning my eyes back to the stage.

“Thank you,” Brian says, resting his hands on the edges of the podium. “It's an honor to be able to present this award.”

I smile at his words, the slightly Scottish lilt making my poor little American heart swell. I try not to hyperventilate as he begins explaining the award.

“These students are not only pioneers in their field, but also those who deeply care for the world around them. They're future doctors, scientists, politicians, and leaders. They've all gone the extra mile to make the world a better place.”

Brian peers around the room over his glasses, a soft smile on his face.

“When I was given a copy of the nomination for this year's winner, I couldn't help but think of a song that Freddie Mercury and I wrote together for one of Queen's albums,” he continues, straightening. “It was shortly before we performed at _Live Aid_ , and we were both feeling broken over the famine in Ethiopia. So we channeled that into our music and wound up with _Is This the World We Created_.”

I smile again when I think of the song, loving it enough that I have a poster of the lyrics in my flat.

“We were trying to get the message across that much of the turmoil in the world is created by us, by people. But then, reading about the things that this year's winner has done to try to fix even a little bit of that… I can't help but think of how happy it would've made Freddie.”

I find that there's a lump in my throat at his words, and I have to clear my throat as Brian continues.

“This year's winner has brought a topic that many find uncomfortable to the forefront of legislation. By helping to draft policy preventing child victims of human trafficking from being charged with crimes committed by direction of their traffickers, this nominee is helping to ensure the futures of those victimized in the worst kinds of way.”

I feel like the floor drops out from under me. There's no way…

“Iris Kollins has stood before Parliament, fighting for the rights of children who have no voice. She's shown true initiative and has crossed borders that others have never dared to. She is a _true_ humanitarian, so it is a pleasure to present her with this award.”

I find that I'm being pulled to my feet by Sam, then being ushered forward towards the stage, the stairs up seeming to be infinite. I stumble slightly between the surprise and my heels, but a warm hand is extended to me. I take it, looking up into warm hazel eyes.

“Congratulations,” he says softly, his hand going to the middle of my back to guide me to the podium.

* * *

“That was a lovely speech.”

I glance up from the glass of wine I'm practically chugging, swallowing as I look up to see those warm dark eyes.

“May I?” Brian gestures to Sam's vacant chair: she had to get to an afternoon class.

“Of course,” I answer, setting down my glass and turning towards him as he sits. He settles in quickly and smiles at me.

“So, I must admit that I was extremely impressed when I received your nomination,” he says, bringing heat to my cheeks. I clear my throat and thank him.

“I never thought you'd be a fan.”

I'm puzzled until he reaches over to point at the tattoo of Freddie's silhouette from the _Hot Space_ album on my right forearm.

“Oh, yeah,” I laugh nervously, hoping he doesn't think I'm just some crazy fangirl (even though I totally am). “Just a bit, though.”

He laughs at my attempt at a joke and it calms me a bit. We find ourselves falling into an easy conversation, talking about our charitable interests, music, food, astronomy, life as an expat. I'm surprised when we're suddenly approached by some of the venue staff and told that they're beginning to clean up.

“I haven't had a conversation like that in a while,” he says, smiling down at me as he helps me with my jacket. We walk out together, me balancing my award and purse in one hand as I fish for my keys in the latter.

“At the risk of being forward,” Brian suddenly says, drawing my attention. “Would you want to go out for coffee some time?”

My heart stops for a moment, wondering if I'm hallucinating. I look at him for a moment, my brown eyes flickering between his hazel ones, and I find myself nodding.

“I'd like that,” I respond, a smile finding its way to my lips as I lean in and give him my university email address.

“So you don't have to worry about handing out your phone number to random people,” I explain, knowing it's much easier to change an email address than a phone number should it fall into the wrong hands. Brian looks a bit surprised, but smiles gratefully.

“A woman who thinks on her feet.”

I can't help but hear an edge to his voice that I'm probably mistaking as sexual. _He's not flirting with you, stop being an idiot,_ I think to myself, just as he gives me a wink.

“I'm free all weekend,” I offer. It's a little bit of a lie; I do have an assignment to work on. But I can take a few hours to go get coffee with Brian May.

“How about Saturday at 11, then?” he offers. I nod, earning a smile in return.

“There's a lovely little coffee shop in Kensington, if you don't mind heading a little out of your way,” he offers, and I know it's probably because he wants to go somewhere familiar, somewhere he knows we won't be bogged down by fans. So I nod, licking my lips nervously.

“That sounds great,” I answer. The look Brian gives me in return makes my heart swell, and he leans in to give me a soft kiss on my cheek.

“Congratulations again, darling. I'll see you Saturday.”

My cheek burns where his lips touched it and the pet name he calls me lights a fire in my belly. I'm surprised I can make it the hundred or so yards to my car before losing it, finding myself giggling like mad as I sit in the driver's seat. Date or not, I'd just made plans to have _coffee_ with _Brian effing May_.

The cafe that I meet Brian at on Saturday is out of the way, mostly empty, and absolutely _splendid._ It's filled to the brim with character, but not in the fake, tourist-trap sort of way. When I first walk in my eye is drawn immediately to the wall to my right, which is covered completely by an assortment of bookcases. Each one is bulging with an overabundance of books, and my inner Belle begs for me to dash over and start rifling through them.

I manage to tame her, though, and pass it to get to the counter. There's a case full of delicious looking biscuits and tea cakes, as well as a line of tins full of teas, some custom. I let my eyes flicker over them, barely absorbing what they are when a middle aged woman comes over to me.

“Brian's waiting in the back for you. He said to order anything you'd like,” she says, a strong Scottish lilt in her voice. I wonder for a moment how she knew it was me, but then smiles. “He described you perfectly.”

I smile and nod vaguely, then order a simple Irish breakfast tea with milk and sugar. I'm too nervous to eat, though I decide I have to come back another day to try the scones.

“He's in the room off to the right there,” the woman offers after taking my order, pointing vaguely towards the back of the cafe. I nod and thank her, then head off in the direction she pointed. When I get to the other end of the counter I see that there's a doorway that was hidden before, and I head into it.

I can see right away why Brian chose this room; my eyes are immediately drawn to the back wall, where there's a mural of what I recognize as the Horsehead Nebula painted. Sure enough, there's Brian, sitting at a table in the corner.

“Your astrophysicist is showing,” I joke with a smile as I walk over to him. He laughs, glancing at the wall.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, circling around to pull out my chair. “Maddie painted it just for me.”

I'm slightly confused and he seems to sense it as he sits.

“My cousin. She owns the shop,” he clarifies. I smile and nod, realized that must be who I placed my order with.

“It's a beautiful shop. Although, you almost lost me in the bookcases,” I joke, getting one of those warm smiles from Brian.

He uses that comment as a way to discuss my favorite books and we fall quickly into deep conversation, talking about everything under the sun. I try not to make a big deal when he mentions his bandmates, or other names I know. He tries to avoid them, though, focusing much more on me than himself. Maddie brings my tea and we continue talking, circling around to the US and my experience studying there.

“It's just _so expensive_ ,” I say, wrapping my hands around my mug and leaning in a bit. “I only got one degree there and I have a ton of student debt. As opposed to here, where I'm able to get _two_ Master's degrees for the same amount I'd pay for half of one in the US. I'll have to prostitute myself out to keep up with my bills before I can get my doctorate.”

I sense Brian's expression shift when the words leave my mouth and I immediately worry that I've crossed some unknown line. He clears his throat, his cheeks flushing a bit as he shifts in his chair. When his eyes meet mine again I feel my stomach clench. I know that look.

_Arousal._

Brian May finds _me_ arousing.

“There are surely other options?” he asks, his voice a bit deeper than it had been before. I nibble my lip for a moment and see his eyes flick to it. I decide to play along with him, just to see where this is going.

“None that would be as fun,” I reply, trying to be both coy and reserved. I seem to succeed because Brian nods, clearing his throat.

“And if someone, a lonely old man, for instance, were to offer financial assistance in return for said _fun_ , you'd be inclined to agree?” he inquires, raising an eyebrow and leaning in a bit closer to me. I find my cheeks burning and the sudden pressure between my legs to be nearly intoxicating.

“Hypothetically, depending on the man, I would _definitely_ be inclined to agree.”

This seems to jolt Brian, and he grips his mug tightly.

“Iris, I'm going to ask you something, but I need you to be completely honest with me. If this is bang out of order, or if it's too forward, tell me and I will never bring it up again.”

I find my heart beating very quickly behind my ribcage; I hear the roar of it in my ears, and I nod.

“I'm assuming you know that my ex-wife Anita and I split a few years ago,” he begins. I nod; it wasn't exactly front page news, but I followed the right circles as a fan and had read a few articles on their split.

“Right,” he continues, clearing his throat and dropping his gaze to his tea. After a moment they turn back up to mine and I notice his jaw is set.

“When we split, I… I went through a dark patch. I didn't think I could ever want anyone else again,” he says. I feel my throat clench when I think of the interviews he's done addressing his battle with depression.

“But then I met you and, I know it's only been three days and it's absolutely ridiculous, but I _want_ you, Iris. Like I haven't wanted anyone in a very long time.”

I see Brian's fingers flex and know he wants to reach out to take my hand. My eyes flick back up to his face and I can't see anything but genuine desire on his face.

But would I really be able to fill the role that he's asking? Am I really willing to essentially be his Sugar Baby, there for his physical pleasure and nothing else? All jokes aside, I _would_ be prostituting myself.

But I can tell by the way Brian is looking at me that he doesn't just want me for physical pleasure. And as I think about it, he's spent so much time just _talking_ to me that I can't believe he would only want me for sex.

“I want you, too,” I whisper back, feeling a flutter in my belly at the implication of my words. His hand tentatively moves towards mine and I immediately reach out and slip mine into it. His fingers close tightly around my palm, and it feels like home.

* * *

So now, nearly a week later, as I stand in the foyer of Brian's home and stare into his eyes, I feel a warmth wash over me. He reaches for my jacket, coming up close behind me as he pulls it back over my shoulders.

“I hope the drive wasn't too bad,” he says, hanging my jacket on the coat stand by the door.  

“It wasn't,” I reassure, smiling up at him. He invites me further into the house, a hand settling gently in the middle of my back as he guides me down the hall into a sitting room. It's decorated modestly, but definitely to a rock star's taste. The room is filled with dark wood, which only makes the white walls and burgundy furniture stand out more. I see there are two stacks of paper on the coffee table.

“Would you like a drink?” he offers, gesturing to a dry bar behind the sofa.

“Do you have any gin?” I ask, quirking up an eyebrow. He grins, nodding.

“Any mixer? Or are you going to go straight for the bottle?”

I raise an eyebrow playfully at him, the corner of my mouth quirking up in a half grin.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Doctor May?”

He gives a soft but dramatic gasp as he walks up to the bar, taking a bottle from the back.

“I would never,” he defends. I watch as he unscrews the lid and splashes some into two tumblers. He drops a few cubes from an ice bucket into the glasses and gestures to a small fridge at his side.

“So, what’s your poison? I have tonic, ginger beer… I think I may have some grapefruit juice in the kitchen, if you’d prefer,” he offers.

“Ginger beer is perfect,” I answer. He nods once, reaching down and pulling a can from the fridge. After he cracks it open and pours half into each tumbler, then sets it off to the side.

“M’lady,” he says, handing me one of the tumblers. I thank him with a small bend at the knee, then let him guide me to the couch.

“I thought we might get some of the more… _awkward_ business out of the way before dinner. That way neither of us has to have any anxiety over it,” Brian says, setting his glass down on a coaster and reaching for one of the piles of papers. He’d mentioned to me after we’d finished our tea the other day that he would be speaking to a lawyer (probably Jim Beach) about getting things in order. I told him I understood, and I do, but it doesn’t make it any less strange.

Now that I’m closer I can see the document is one of a legal nature. Sure enough, when Brian hands it to me, I can see _Nondisclosure Agreement_ written in bold print across the top. Brian’s hands shake a bit as he holds it out to me and somehow I find it comforting that he’s just as nervous as I am. I take the papers from him and reach out, squeezing his hand gently.

“Take as much time as you need to look over it,” he says, then glances at the clock on the mantle. “I’m going to go check on dinner. I’ll be right back.” I watch as he takes a healthy swig of his drink and then stands, heading out of the same doorway we’d come in through.

When I turn back to the form, I find that the agreement is completely reasonable. The document starts out defining confidentiality and what is and isn’t private. I’m not allowed to share any information without Brian’s written permission, unless it’s already public knowledge. I’m only allowed to share information freely when it becomes public knowledge or when Brian releases me from the agreement. Any violations can have legal ramifications. By the time I’m finished reading it Brian is walking back into the room and he meets my eye when I look up at him.

“Is it too much?” he asks, worry lacing his words. I shake my head, smiling gently.

“No. Do you have a pen? I can go ahead and sign it now,” I reply. Brian seems to relax a bit and he nods, pulling one from his pocket and handing it to me. I quickly print and sign my name on the second page, finally dating it before sliding it over to him. He signs it as well, his hands trembling a bit. Once he's done he carefully places it on the corner of the coffee table, then reaches for the second sheet of paper. This is only one front-and-back sheet, and he carefully hands it to me.

“I thought perhaps a three month arrangement to start with might be best,” he explains, and I nod as I look over this sheet. It has a numbered list, and as I read over it, I feel my cheeks start to heat. “If there's anything you don't agree with, we can work together on fixing it. Just let me know.”

I look back up at him and nod, then go back to reading the contract in my hand closely.

  1. _There will be open communication at all times between both parties._
  2. _Miss Kollins will be available to Dr. May whenever he requests. Dr. May will be given a copy of Miss Kollins’ weekly schedule, including class, research, and study time. Dr. May will not request Miss Kollins be available during those designated times, except when Miss Kollins and Dr. May make a prior arrangement._
  3. _Dr. May will provide Miss Kollins with a £3,000 monthly allowance, as well as an expense account. The monthly allowance may be used freely by Miss Kollins, and the expense account is to be used solely for the following:_
    * _Clothing and accessories for any events or outings Dr. May requests Miss Kollins attends._
    * _Travel expenses related to dates with Dr. May, including petrol and regular maintenance relating to use of Miss Kollins’ vehicle during specified dates._
    * _A gym or health club membership._
    * _Any health or beauty appointments Dr. May might deem fit, including (but not limited to):_
    * _Manicures/pedicures_
    * _Dermatological treatments_
    * _Massages_
    * _Personal training sessions_
  4. _Miss Kollins and Dr. May will work together to create a document containing the soft and hard limits of both parties._



 

I'm fine with all except the third, which makes me bristle a bit. It seems harsh, with the implication that I must be beautiful for him at all times. He seems to sense something is wrong and leans a bit closer to be.

“Is everything alright? Is it too strict? We can always change it, if you'd like…”

Brian's words relieve me a bit, but I still feel a bit bothered.

“It's just… number three is a bit… _intense_ ,” I say, my voice soft but firm. Brian's eyes widen a bit, then he shakes his head.

“I knew I should have had Jim make that less demanding,” he mutters, then licks his lips.

“I don't mean to make you feel like you're not good enough, or beautiful enough - I mean, you're gorgeous - but I just…” he rambles, his face slowly growing pink. I gently reach out and take his hand, squeezing it. He meets my eye, takes a deep breath, and squeezes my hand back.

“I just want you to know you're going to be taken care of. I know how important self care is, and I don't want you to have to worry about being able to afford it. So, use the allowance for anything you want, but I want to take care of you.”

By the time Brian is done explaining my heart has swelled, a smile on my face. It still feels a bit odd, but I understand what he's saying.

“Okay,” I reply, squeezing his hand again. He grins back, letting out a breath he had been holding.

“Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way,” he says, squeezing my hand before slipping his own out of it. “Any other questions?”

I blush, having about a hundred flash through my mind. But I settle on just one.

“How are the more… _physical…_ aspects of this going to work?”

I find myself blushing madly, a fire lighting in my belly at the thought. I have a sudden thought of him pinning me to the wall by the throat, his hand down the front of my panties, and I bite my lip. His eyes track the movement just as they did back in the coffee shop and his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip.

“I'll leave that up to you,” he says, the depth of his voice betraying his arousal. “I do want to discuss it, though, at length. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable about anything.”

I nibble my lip, nodding.

“Okay,” I agree, then feel a spark of bravery that makes me reach out and lightly touch his knee. “I don't think you could ever make me feel uncomfortable, though.”

The look Brian gives me is intense, his eyes darkening with arousal. He slowly reaches a hand up, gently cupping the side of my neck as he leans in. He smells of cologne and faintly of coconut, and I find myself leaning into him as well.

I'd always hated the term “sparks flying” to describe a kiss, thinking it to be cheesy and lazy, but that's exactly what I feel when our lips meet. He doesn't try to lick his way into my mouth, or nibble my bottom lip, but it's still the best kiss I've ever had. His lips cradle my bottom one before he pulls back a moment, then tilts his head a bit more and presses his mouth to mine again.

I can tell he wants me to decide how far to take the kiss, so I tentatively poke my tongue out, his mouth falling open so that I can dip my tongue further in. I moan lightly when I feel his tongue slide against mine, and he suckles my tongue gently.

I'm just considering climbing onto his lap when there's a loud buzz from the kitchen. We pull away from each other like we've been shocked. Brian chuckles, I giggle, and we both lean back.

“That's dinner,” he says softly, reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Though I wouldn't mind continuing this later.” I can see his eyes sparkle mischievously and feel a rush between my legs.

_This is going to be a long evening,_ I think to myself, taking the hand Brian holds out to me. I can feel the calluses on his fingertips and think briefly that they would feel wonderful creating friction between my legs. I suppress a shudder.

_A_ **_very_ ** _long evening, indeed._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Straight smut ahead, guys. You've been warned. ;)

“That was delicious.”

I set down my fork, the remnants of the chocolate Charlotte Russe smeared slightly on my plate. Brian smiles fondly at me, nodding his head in thanks as he finishes his last bite.

“I hope you didn’t mind it being vegetarian,” he says, raising an eyebrow. I grin, shaking my head.

“No, it was fine. I’m mostly pescatarian, anyways,” I reply, wiping my hands on the napkin in my lap. Brian smiles, pushing his chair back. I follow suit, reaching for my plate, but Brian tuts.

“I'll get it,” he offers, but I take my plate anyways.

“It's fine. You cooked all of that amazing food for me, so the least I can do is help clean up,” I say. Brian chuckles and shakes his head.

“You're so stubborn… I like it,” he muses. I giggle, following him into the kitchen.

“Yeap. You'll just have to get used to that,” I tease, setting my plate down in the sink. When Brian looks at me there's a dark twinkle in his eye and a small smirk on his face.

“Or maybe I'll have to teach you to not be so stubborn.”

I feel a rush in my belly at the thought and my breathing gets a little faster.

“I might be open to that, depending on the lesson,” I say, and find that my voice is breathier than I intend. Brian sets his plate down in the sink on top of mine and steps a bit closer.

“Y'know, you're not too old to spank for mouthing off.”

From the smirk that appears on Brian's mouth, he can clearly tell that I'm suddenly so turned on that it's dizzying.

“Careful,” I warn, my voice soft and slightly strained. “You might get yourself into more than you bargained for tonight.”

Brian's eyes darken further and he grins wolfishly.

“Who says I don't want more than I bargained for?”

At this point he's towering over me, pinning me to the counter with his body. I'm practically vibrating with the prospect of what he’s suggesting. I know that if he keeps going, there's no way I'm going to be able to hold back.

“Brian,” I murmur softly, my hand coming up to rest on his chest. It's warm and I can feel his heartbeat strong against my palm. My pinky slips past the open part in his shirt and the skin contact is like fire against it.

“Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop,” he whispers, hands coming to rest against the counter behind me. I consider him for a moment, nervously wetting my lips. Once again, his eyes track the movement. I'm beginning to think he has a bit of an oral fixation.

“Nothing too crazy,” I respond, unable to clarify beyond that. Luckily he seems to get what I mean because he nods, then dips his head lower. He stops a centimeter away from my lips and his hesitation even after my permission is slightly heartwarming, but I'm also feeling impatient, so I push up onto my toes and press my lips to his.

Brian's reaction is both immediate and satisfying. His hands fly to my waist, thumbs digging into my sides as he kisses me feverishly. In pushing up onto my toes I pressed our chests together, and I can feel his light dusting of chest hair tickle at my chest. I hum into the kiss, opening my mouth to his tongue when it swipes my bottom lip.

Brian begins pushing me towards my right, over to the counter next to the sink before helping me to climb carefully up onto it, our lips separating around labored breath. Once I'm seated Brian nudges his way between my legs and nuzzles my nose with his.

“You're sure you want to do this?” he asks, and I nearly roll my eyes. Obviously gentle reassurance isn't enough, so I hook a hand behind his head and press a wet, dirty kiss to his mouth before pulling back.

“Brian, if you don't fuck me on this counter right now, I'm going to throw a fucking fit.”

My words come out as a growl followed by a whimper as Brian bucks his hips into my clothed cunt.

“You're going to get such a spanking for speaking to me like that,” he grinds out, hands falling to my hips to tug me harder against him.

“Looking forward to it,” I snap back, tugging open the bottom few buttons of Brian's shirt. I lean up to kiss him again, hooking my heels around his thighs to tug him closer as my hands are finally able to slide around his bare middle to his back. He moans into my mouth as I drag my nails over his heated flesh, his cock rubbing deliciously between my legs.

He kisses me back for a moment, continuing to grind against me until he obviously can't take it anymore. He pulls away, resting his forehead against mine.

“Need to go get a condom,” he pants, licking quickly into my mouth. I whine, wanting him to keep rutting against me. He nips my bottom lip in warning.

“You mouthing off again?” he asks, his voice a deep growl. I pout but shake my head.

“Sorry, Daddy,” I whisper, sobering when I realize what my arousal said. But, where I'm expecting Brian to look taken aback, he only looks at me like he wants to eat me alive.

“Get upstairs. Now,” he instructs, his voice choked. He moves back enough that I can slide off of the counter, belatedly seeming to realize that this is the first time I've been to his house. “Back the way you came. Stairs across from the coats. Last door on the left. On the bed in your bra and panties.”

His voice softens almost to a question, and I remember that I told him nothing too crazy. I try to reassure him with a nod.

“Yes, Daddy,” I say, earning a grin. When I turn away from him I feel his hand swat my bottom.

“And no touching yourself.”

His words send a shiver down my spine and it takes all I have not to break into a run. Instead I walk quickly, retracing my steps out of the kitchen and through the dining room, back into the front hall. I see the coats, then look to my right. There's a staircase that I had somehow missed before, and I make my way over to them.

Despite the haze of need clouding my brain, I can't help but let my eyes fall on the photos adorning the wall on the left side of the staircase. A mix of band photos and family photos, there are plenty of faces that I recognize. There's a tug in my chest when I see a pair of familiar brown eyes looking at me from one of the photos. But I remind myself why I'm here and manage to tear my eyes away from the photo.

I refocus myself and finish ascending the stairs, then follow the hall at the top down to the end. The door to the left is slightly ajar so I push it open. I find the master bedroom behind it, and am immediately distracted by the sheer size of it. There's enough room for two chests of drawers, a low dresser, and a wardrobe. There's a makeup vanity in one corner, it's surface currently holding a few framed photos. The Red Special is sitting in a stand near it, a sight that makes me smile.

The bed takes up the most space in the room. A California king, it’s plush headboard is pressed against the back wall. I walk over to it, trailing a hand over the thick slate grey comforter. I almost sit down on it before recalling Brian's instructions.

I begin to undress, toeing off my flats and leaving them at the foot of the bed while I unbutton my cardigan. Once it's off I follow with my shirt and skirt, folding everything neatly and leaving it in a pile on the chest at the foot of the bed.

Once I'm down to just my bra and panties, I look at the bed. My eyes survey the expanse of it before falling on the mound of pillows at the head of it. Deciding that's probably the most comfortable thing, I climb up and lean against the pillows on the left side of the bed.

I've just settled against them, my legs stretched out in front of me, when I hear Brian padding softly down the hall. He appears in the doorway and he takes my breath away.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his eyes drinking me in. I can't help but giggle, some of my nerves melting away. He chuckles in response, walking into the room. I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed just as Brian makes it to me. He reaches down and self consciously tugs his shirt closed, but I peer up at him through my lashes.

“Can I see you, Daddy?” I ask softly, raising my hands to his hips. I play with his belt loops and watch as several emotions play across his face. Finally he tightens his jaw, then relaxes into a smile. His nerves are still apparent, but he nods nonetheless.

I'm slow and gentle with my movements, softly kissing his belly once it's exposed. I mimic my earlier movement and gently drag my nails over his sides, earning a soft moan. I feel Brian’s fingers tangle in my hair as I continue to kiss a path up his stomach and chest, standing as I get higher. By the time I’m at his collar bones I’m on my tip toes, and I’m letting my tongue dip out on every other kiss.

My hand slowly make their way up Brian's chest and over his shoulders, pushing the material of his shirt away. Eventually he lets it fall to the floor and wraps one hand loosely around my throat.

“C'mere,” he murmurs, guiding my face to his. He lowers his mouth to mine in a kiss that's almost entirely teeth and tongues, ending it with a nip to my lower lip.

“You know, it's not entirely fair that I'm the only one who's bare chested,” he says playfully, his eyes following the hand that's around my throat as it slowly moves down to my sternum. He rests his palm flat between my breasts, the hesitation from downstairs returning. It's as if he knows that, should he remove this last article of clothing, there's really no going back. It'll make it all too real.

“Take it off then,” I whisper, looking up into his eyes. I can see that he's unsure, so I arch my back a little to press his palm harder against my chest. “Please, Daddy.”

Brian's eyes almost flutter for a moment, but his confidence returns tenfold. The hand on my chest is suddenly gone, moving quickly around to my back to swiftly unclasp my bra in one fluid, practiced movement. Brian's lips drop to my shoulder as he tugs it off, letting it fall to the floor with his shirt. His eyes darken impossibly further when he leans back and looks at my exposed chest.

“You're so beautiful,” he says softly, his voice almost reverent. I'm fighting the urge to cross my arms over my chest as his eyes roam my body, but I don't get a chance to. His own hands rise, one cupping my right breast as the other slides around my waist and settles on my lower back. I moan as the pad of his thumb slides back and forth over my nipple, drawing it to a hardened peak. He leans down again, kissing me deeply. The impatience from downstairs suddenly returns, and Brian uses his grip on me to guide me back half a step so that the backs of my thighs are pressed tightly against the side of the bed.

I know what he wants, so I slowly let myself fall backwards, his hands guiding me all the way down. Once I'm lowered onto the soft mattress, Brian folded over me, he breaks the kiss. He presses our foreheads together, the tips of our noses brushing against one another as he pants into my mouth.

“Can I taste you?”

Four words, but the effect they have on me is astounding. I nearly whimper out loud, my hips involuntarily bucking against his clothed hips. My thin panties hardly provide a barrier so I can feel the distinct outline of his cock straining in his trousers.

“Yes, please, Daddy,” I answer softly, desperately. Brian groans at the slide of my hips, the hand that's still pressed to my lower back flexing before sliding around to grip my hip. His thumb presses into the dip of my hip bone as his face drops to my throat, kissing and licking at the flesh. He leaves a trail down the column of my throat, then down my sternum. He pauses to press a kiss to the breast his hand isn't covering, lips brushing against my nipple before he sucks it into his mouth. I gasp at the action, arching up into him as my hands fly to his head. I gently lace my fingers in his hair, tugging gently at it as he continues his path down my body.

His kisses become more and more wet the further he gets. By the time he gets to the lacy trim of my panties there's a distinct line of his saliva drying on my skin. He's marking me, I think, the fever of arousal breaking through. Suddenly I want nothing more than his mouth on me.

Apparently whining and wiggling my hips in an effort to hurry Brian along is the wrong move, though, because his mouth leaves my skin.

“Are you being a bad girl again?” he asks, his voice low. I immediately stop moving my hips and do my best to look apologetic.

“I'm sorry, Daddy,” I respond, but I'm feeling a bit bold. “I just can't wait for your mouth to be on me. I want you to make me feel good.”

I expect Brian to scold me or make some comment about spanking me again, but he just groans and presses his face into my hip.

“You're going to be the death of me, do you know that?” he says, the words half muffled before he looks back up at me. I only grin cheekily at him. He gathers himself and returns the grin.

“Now, where was I…” he muses, his eyes getting that mischievous twinkle in them again. They fall to the damp material between my legs, his eyebrows rising.

“Ah, yes, I was right about here,” he murmurs. He lowers his mouth to my clothed clit, bringing his hands down to hook behind my knees as he presses a kiss to the oversensitive bundke of nerves. I can't help but cry out, pushing my hips up to his face. But the kiss is brief, before he turns his head to press an open mouthed kiss to the inside of my thigh. He sucks my flesh into his mouth, my hips bucking again at the sensation. He ignores the movement, choosing to alternate between my thighs. By the time he's made it up to the crease of my hips I'm practically shaking with need. Brian seems to notice because he chuckles and looks up at me.

“You're so desperate for me, aren't you?” he asks. He doesn't sound smug, more awestruck. I whine in response, nodding my head quickly. He tuts. “Good girls use their words.”

If Brian wants words, he's going to get them.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whimper, my hands leaving their place on his head to grip the comforter beneath me. “Please, I want your mouth on me so bad, wanna feel it.”

Thankfully Brian no longer seems to be in a teasing mood, and relief washes over me when he lets go of my legs and reaches for my panties. He pulls them off, humming his approval as I raise my hips. Once the material is gone, his hands go back to the backs of my knees and he pushes my thighs wide.

The moment his lips touch my bare clit, I can already feel the coil tightening in my belly. Unsure if he wants me to ask permission, I whimper and buck my hips.

“Close already?” he asks, his tongue dipping down to my entrance before circling my clit. I let out a pathetic whine, nodding my head.

“Yes, Daddy,” I manage to gasp out, yelping when he begins to flick his tongue quickly over my clit. The moans that leave my mouth are entirely involuntary, and I can feel myself about to snap, permission be damned.

Seeming to sense that I'm on the precipice, Brian drops one hand from my left leg, letting it fall to his shoulder as he swipes his middle finger through the slick that's gathered, then slowly slides it into my wet heat. In my mind's eye I can see all of the footage I've ever watched of him playing, focused entirely on his fingers as they dance over the Red Special. Long, graceful fingers pressing and sliding up and down her neck, his lower lip trapped between his teeth, hips pressing up into her. And, right now, those deft fingers are buried in my cunt. That lower lip is pulled back as he licks at my clit. Those hips were rutting against me.

Suddenly I'm coming, my eyes pinching closed as my mouth opens in a silent scream. It's easily the hardest I've ever come, my cunt clenching down hard on Brian's finger as he gently sucks on my clit. I grind against his mouth, whimpering as I come down. When he eventually pulls away, he slips his finger out of me and sucks it into his mouth.

“You taste better than I thought you would,” Brian says, kissing the inside of my thigh one more time. I let out a shaky breath and prop myself up on my elbows.

“And your mouth is way more talented than I thought,” I respond. Brian chuckles, standing back up. I can see the front of his trousers are tented and suddenly want nothing more than to feel him inside of me.

“I want you, Daddy… please…”

It comes out as a whisper, but Brian hears me perfectly. He nods once, leaning down to cup my jaw as he kisses me. I can taste myself on his tongue and I moan.

“Don't move,” he instructs, running his thumb over my lower lip before standing. I watch him disappear into the en suite bathroom, then a drawer opens and closes. When he reappears I see a small gold foil packet clutched in his hand. He nudges his way between my legs again and tosses it onto the bed at my hip, then pauses.

His hands fall to his belt buckle but stop, and I can see his hesitation return. Knowing what it's like to feel self conscious, the wave of palpable nerves that can make you nauseous, I want to do my best to reassure him.

Brian's eyes track my movements as I sit up and place my hands over his, leaning in to press a kiss to his chest as I gently move his hands out of the way.

“Want you so bad, Daddy,” I murmur, nuzzling against his skin as I undo his belt and pop open the button on his trousers. Our eyes meet and I almost smirk to myself when I see some of his confidence has returned. I did that…

I finish undoing Brian’s trousers and gently push them down over the swell of his ass, mouth watering when I see the outline of his cock in the tight boxer briefs he’s wearing. There’s a small wet spot just at the head, and I can’t help but lean in and kiss it, my tongue laving over it. It’s a movement I make without thinking, but I know immediately that Brian approves. His hand goes to my hair, gently brushing at the hair at my crown as his other hand slips under my chin. I pull my mouth away from him as he tilts my head up, a soft smirk on his face.

“You’ll have to save that for another time, my darling,” he says softly. I wonder if I’ve done something wrong, but the thought is fleeting. From the way Brian is looking at me and the gentle brush of his thumb over my bottom lip, I know he does want it.

“I’m not as young as I used to be, and it’s been a while, so I’m afraid I won’t last very long if I let you get your mouth on me,” he explains, and I nod in understanding.

Brian lets his thumb slip past my lips for a moment before he shakes his head and pulls away.

“Go lay against the pillows,” he says, tilting his chin towards them. I nod, following his instructions. I turn so that I can climb onto all fours and I hear Brian groan. I can’t help but tilt my hips up a bit, knowing that my cunt is on full display for him right now. But I don’t tease for too long, and when I turn around to lay back against the pillows I can see that he’s discarded his underwear and has his cock held in a loose fist as he rolls on the condom.

The butterflies I’d felt earlier return full force when Brian climbs onto the bed, but now they’re tamped by more confidence and something that could become love if I’m not careful. I push the thought away, though, and focus instead on Brian. I spread my legs for him, my hands reaching for him as he settles between my legs.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs again, brushing the hair from my forehead as he settles over me. I cup his cheek, smiling softly at him.

“So are you,” I murmur, running my thumb over his cheek. They go pink, his eyes flicking away from mine. I decide in that moment to make sure I tell him that again, and often. For now, though, I let my legs fall further open and arch up into him, inviting him wordlessly to me. He takes the invitation, lowering himself so that he can kiss me deeply. I feel him shift, then the press of his cock against my cunt. I’m still slick and loose enough from my orgasm that it doesn’t take much for him to slide into me, and we both pull back and moan.

“You’re - fuck - so tight. I won’t last long…” he pants, his hips shaking as he does his best to hold them still. I lift my knees, wrapping my legs around his waist, and nod.

“Neither will I,” I answer, letting out a gasping moan when his hips cant in a soft thrust. It makes me want more, so I raise my hands to his shoulders and bare my throat.

“Please, Daddy,” I murmur, my fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders. “Make me your baby girl.”

My words seem to be more than enough motivation for him to begin moving again, and I cry out when he pulls his hips back before slamming them into me.

“Feel so good,” I whimper, holding tight to him as he ruts into me. There’s no real rhythm to it, betraying just how close he is, but I don’t care. At his angle he’s hitting my g-spot on almost every thrust, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I do my best to hold out until he comes, but one of his hands lowers to my clit and he rubs furiously at it. I scream his name as I fall over the precipice, clawing at his back as my head presses back into the pillows. He follows closely, burying his face in my throat as he comes, cries of my name smeared into the curve of my neck.

I’m not sure how long we lie there, his weight comforting as his cock softens between my legs. Eventually he pulls away, rolling gently off of me.

“Stay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I’m gently jostled as he stands, and I curl up on my side as I watch him head back into the bathroom. I hear the click of a trash bin lid and then the sound of running water shortly before he returns with a flannel in his hand. He stops just short of the bed, looking a little lost, so I sit up and gently take the flannel.

“I’ll be right back,” I whisper, standing. I accept the kiss he leans down to give, unable to help the smile on my mouth as I walk into the bathroom. I take it all in quickly, noting the empty side of the vanity as I clean up. After using the toilet and splashing some water on my neck, I make my way back out to the bedroom. Brian’s pulled his boxers back on and is turning down the sheets when I come up behind him. He’s still got that lost look on his face when he turns, and I feel a tug in my heart.

“I know it wasn’t really part of the agreement, but you’re welcome to spend the night,” he offers, his voice unsure. I have to tamp my giddiness at the invitation, and bite my lip as I nod.

“I’d love to spend the night,” I reply. He breaks into a grin, then nods towards my naked body.

“Let me get you something to wear,” he says. I smile wider when I hear the confidence in his voice. I nod, watching as he walks over to the dresser and pulls something from a middle drawer. I grab my discarded panties and slip them on, adjusting them around my hips as he walks back over to me. I nearly laugh when I see [which one it is](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/306385580873175894/).

“Since you’re a self-proclaimed fan,” he jokes, winking. I giggle, pulling the shirt on over my head. It hugs me and I realize just how skinny he was.

“How do I look?” I ask, striking a pose. Brian grins, coming up and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Stunning,” he replies. As he leans down to kiss me I can’t help but sigh into his mouth, still completely in shock that this is real.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys! The end of the mini-series! I absolutely loved writing this, and I want to continue to write Iris and Brian. I have a few ideas of my own for future oneshots, but I also want to get your input! Just send me an ask on my Tumblr (@radi0gaga) with your request (one from the list or a new idea) so I know where to start! My ideas are:
> 
> Pet Play after a visit to the sanctuary (foxtail plug, anyone?)  
> Exhibitionism at the planetarium.  
> Sub!Bri  
> Freddie’s Birthday - Angst/Sad Fic  
> Backstage naughtiness at a concert.  
> The Golden Globes

**Eighteen Months Later**

 

“Iris, what are you doing?”

I slowly turn to see Brian standing in the doorway of the walk-in closet, his eyebrow raised. I prop the sunglasses I’m wearing up onto my head, shrugging a shoulder.

“Cleaning out the closet.”

Brian’s eyebrow stays where it is as he looks me up and down. I’d found quite a few treasures in the closet I’m cleaning out, and I’m wearing several fruits of my labor. The sunglasses propped on my head I recognized immediately as a pair of Roger’s, but the three button ups I have on are definitely Brian’s. I’ve also got one of Freddie’s old scarves wrapped around my neck(that honestly might have started as Roger’s, everyone knows how good Freddie was at pilfering his band mates’ clothing) and three copies of the  _ A Kind of Magic _ vinyl in my hand.

“I can see that,” Brian muses, unable to keep the grin off of his face any longer. “You gonna return those to Roger?”

I remove the sunglasses and look them over, then replace them and shrug.

“Nah. I was thinking of taking a few pictures and texting them to him with a ransom note.”

Brian laughs, shaking his head.

“That’s my girl,” he chuckles. He walks over to me, a hand going around my waist as he drops a kiss to my mouth. 

“Find anything else interesting?” he asks, peering around the closet. It's more of a small room, but as long as my things fit in here, I'm not going to bother myself with semantics. 

I grin, wiggling my eyebrows. 

“Well, since you  _ asked _ ,” I say, pulling out of his embrace. I walk over to a pile of boxes, doing my best Vanna White impression. 

“ _ These _ are a shit ton of photos that I plan on fangirling over later.” 

I gesture to a pile of clothes, again waving my arms dramatically. 

“ _ This _ is a pile of clothes that I'm stealing half of because that's the perk of boning a rockstar.”

Brian snorts. 

“And  _ these _ ,” I point to a massive pile of vinyls. “Are copies of albums that I plan on getting you to sign before I pilfer them and sell them all on Ebay.”

I end with my hands on my hips, grinning widely and probably looking ridiculous in my sweatpants, old holey shirt, layers of patterned shirts, and sunglasses propped on a messy bun. For some odd reason, though, Brian is still looking at me like I hung the moon. 

“You're a bloody nutter,” he says fondly, grinning down at me. I grin proudly at him, slipping my hands around his waist. 

“That's why you love me,” I respond. He kisses my nose, then my forehead. 

“That I do, doll baby,” he says. His hands drop to my ass and he gently squeezes it. “It's almost 3. You should probably start getting ready.”

I nod, glancing around. 

“Okay.”

Brian keeps a hand around my waist as we walk back down the hall to the master bedroom. 

“I'm gonna take a shower. Wanna join?” 

I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively, but Brian shakes his head with a grin. 

“We don't have time for the sorts of things that happen when I take a shower with you, love,” he chuckles, then pulls me in for a kiss. 

“Alright, then,” I shrug. 

I shower quickly, then blow dry my hair. When I walk back out to the bedroom Brian's leaned back against the pillows of his -  _ our _ \- bed. He looks up at me over the top of the reading glasses that are perched on his nose, lowering the tablet in his hand. 

“Well, don't you look scrumptious,” he muses. He sets down the tablet as I walk over to him, tugging my towel open. 

“Want a taste?” I ask. I crawl up onto the bed, straddling his hips. He leans up to suck a nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it before pulling off with a pop. I can feel every callus on his hands where he's gripping my hips and I moan lightly. 

“Mmm..” he hums, looking up into my eyes as my fingers tangle in his hair. “Delicious.”

When I lean down to kiss him he responds immediately, pressing up against me as his arms circle my waist. I pull away from him with a giggling squeal as he rolls us over. 

“I thought we didn't have time for this?” I giggle, arching against him when he rolls his hips against mine. He hums thoughtfully before kissing me. 

“We can be fashionably late.”

* * *

“You're late.”

Roger raises an eyebrow at Brian and I, his mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“Sorry. Got carried away cleaning out the spare bedroom.”

Roger seems to know that Brian's excuse is only half true, but he just rolls his eyes and ushers us in anyways. I hand him the gift I'm holding and press a quick kiss to his bearded cheek as I pass. 

“Happy birthday, Roger,” 

He eyes me suspiciously, mouth still set in a straight line. 

“Trying to get on my good side,” he teases before breaking into a wide smile. 

There are several familiar faces at Roger's party: Jim Beach and his wife, Adam, Roger's kids. There are a few unfamiliar faces, but that's to be expected. 

Everyone greets Brian and I as we're herded into the dining room, where there's already a salad course waiting. Sarina guides me over to the seat beside hers, and Brian sits on my other side. 

“So, how's moving going?” Sarina asks, taking a bite as she looks at me. I smile. 

“Good. And helping Brian clean has been fun,” I say. Sarina laughs, probably knowing exactly why. Sure enough, she nods. 

“Yeah, Rog and I found some pretty interesting stuff when I moved into his place.”

We spend the rest of the salad and soup courses trading stories about all of the treasures we'd found hidden among our beaus’ things. I'm shocked when she tells me that she found a box of Freddie's costumes from the  _ Magic _ tour; she begs me to let her come look through the boxes of photos. By the time the main course arrives we've planned a half spa, half fangirling day.

Brian's hand lands on my knee as a caterer serves me (an absolutely delicious looking Chilean sea bass). I feel him squeeze it slightly, then run his thumb over my skin. I shoot him a look but he's engrossed in conversation with Jim Beach, who sits on his other side. 

I'm beginning to regret wearing a dress when Brian's hand slowly moves up the inside of my thigh, oppressive late July heat be damned. I contemplate surreptitiously pushing his hand away when he suddenly gives me a hard squeeze, then pulls his hand completely away as his own plate is set down in front of him. 

The rest of the meal passes in relative peace. Brian's hand doesn't return to my knee until the cake is brought out. It's massive, and shining with candles. 

“Whoa, dad, you're gonna burn the house down,” Rufus jokes, earning a middle finger from Roger. I laugh, joining in when Brian begins singing. 

The cake is delicious, but I'm distracted by Brian's hand returning to my leg, this time high enough that his pinky slips into the crease of my thigh. I look at him from the corner of my eye to find that he's once again engrossed in conversation, this time with Adam and Jim. I nearly choke on the bite of cake in my mouth when he shifts his pinky and it settles in the crease of my lips. 

“You alright, Iris?” Roger asks. I see the knowing glint in his eye and want to kick Brian. Instead I swallow and give a tight smile. 

“Fine. Went down the wrong way.”

“That's what she said,” Adam jokes, drawing a laugh from the whole table, along with their attention from me. Unfortunately this allows Brian to continue his torture, pressing his finger harder against my cunt until it's nestled in my folds. I can feel my panties soaking through and take a shaky breath. 

Luckily dessert doesn't last too much longer and we're invited into the living room for drinks. Brian removes his hand, but I'm not entirely sure I'm relieved. I nearly groan out loud, however, when I see Brian quickly lift his hand to his mouth and his tongue darts out to taste his finger. To anyone else it would appear that he's got a bit of frosting on it, but I know better. Especially when his darkened eyes meet mine. 

He grins at me, pressing a hand to my lower back and leaning close like he's going to press a kiss to my temple. Instead, I hear his voice low and breathy in my ear. 

“Keep being a good little girl and you'll get a nice treat when we get home.”

I know that by treat he means I'll get to come however I choose, and a small shiver runs through me at the thought. I nod once, my eyes meeting his again as he pulls back. 

The rest of the night passes too slowly. We only stay perhaps an hour more, both of us nursing drinks. I spend almost the entire hour pressed against Brian's side on one of the sofas, his arm slung around my shoulders, callused fingers gently brushing my skin. 

It feels as if a weight has been lifted when Brian excuses us for the night, standing. He embraces Roger, wishing him happy birthday one more time.  I bid Sarina goodnight, then give Roger a hug of my own. 

By the time we reach the car I can feel myself growing wet again, and I'm practically shaking as I buckle my safety belt. 

“You were such a good girl during dinner, letting Daddy check on his pussy,” Brian praises, leaning over to pull me into a kiss. I hum into his mouth, sucking lightly on his tongue when he dips it between my lips. I'm almost tempted to ask him to take me here, in the car, but I know that there are too many people that Brian respects inside to risk us being caught by one of them. 

“Alright, baby girl, you keep being good and you get to come however you choose when we get home,” Brian says when he pulls away. Something tells me that being good is going to my very hard and, sure enough, Brian gets a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“Now, Daddy missed his pussy  _ so much _ during dinner that he wants to hold it for a little while, alright?” I swallow dryly and nod, knowing what's coming next. “If you're a good girl and keep from coming until we get home, you'll get to come as many times as you want. If not, you don't get to come at all.”

I nod, knowing that we have at least a fifteen minute drive. I steel myself as Brian nods in return, then slowly backs out of the drive. As soon as the car is out of reverse, his long fingers are shifting the fabric of my dress up my thighs. I help him, hoping it'll make him happy, and pull the thin material up. 

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he says, eyes darting to mine as a smile graces his lips. His hand slips into my panties and I fight back a gasp as he cups my entire cunt in his warm hands. 

“Such a warm, soft pussy for Daddy,” he murmurs, petting it as he keeps his eyes on the road. I try not to squirm, closing my eyes and letting out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I can feel myself growing slick as his fingers play with my lips. 

When we reach the first red light his middle finger slips between my lips and into my slick hole. I let out a small whine when he begins pressing against my g-spot, the callused pad of his finger delicious against it. 

“You're so wet for me,” he muses, and I can hear the smile in his voice. I hum and affirmative but it's cut off by a loud gasp as he slips another finger into me. He begins to shallowly thrust them, his palm hitting my clit, and the light turns green. 

Brian continues his torture, fingertips pressing my g-spot as his thumb comes up to rub gently against the left side of my clit, where Brian knows I’m most sensitive. I can feel myself approaching the edge already and I take a deep breath through my nose. 

“You alright, doll baby?” Brian asks, his eyes flicking away from the road to look over at me. I manage to hum out a soft “Mmhmm…” just as we approach another red light. Brian takes the chance to pull his fingers from me and look down at his hand where it’s tucked between my legs. He pulls his fingers almost all of the way out before plunging them back in, repeating the motion in long, hard thrusts.

“Wish this was my cock,” he murmurs, his eyes following the movement of his hand. “Don’t you?”

All I can do in response is whimper, and apparently that isn’t enough for Brian.

“Good girls use their words,” he scolds, burying his fingers in my cunt again as the light turns green. I gasp, my hands clenched into fists at the sides of my thighs.

“ _ Fuck _ , yes, Daddy,” I breathe, doing everything in my power to keep from coming. He’s doubled his efforts, expertly rubbing against my g-spot as he presses circles around my clit. My eyes pinch shut and I do my best to think of anything to keep from coming. I feel the car slow and turn, and when I open my eyes I nearly sob with relief. As we pull into the drive I can’t help but bring a hand up to wrap around Brian’s forearm.

“Do you want something, baby girl?” he asks. I can hear the smirk in his voice and it makes me want to glare at him, but I know that I’ll be punished if I do.

“Wanna come, Daddy,” I whimper, letting my head fall back against the headrest as my hips begin to softly thrust against his hand. Brian hums thoughtfully as he manages to awkwardly put the car into park with his right hand.

“I did promise that you could come as much as you want when we got home, didn’t I?”

I whimper in response, swallowing.

“Yes, Daddy, you did,” I manage. Brian hums, then unbuckles his seatbelt and mine, his hand still in my cunt.

“Come climb in Daddy’s lap, sweet baby girl,” he says, his voice soft. I see him reach down and adjust his seat so that he’s leaning back a bit more than normal, then his hand leaves my body. I whimper at the loss of contact. But he raises his arm, beckoning me with his right hand, and I manage to scramble across the center console. When I settle in his lap he wraps his arms around me, adjusting me until I’m leaned back with my left leg between the seats and my right foot on the dashboard. My back is half against his chest and half against the door, and I can tuck my face into his neck.

“Does this pretty little cunt want to come on Daddy’s fingers?” he coos, lightly slapping said cunt with his hand. My hips jump at the touch and I cry out.

“Uh huh… wanna come on your fingers Daddy, wanna come so bad,” I beg, letting my knees fall open wider. Brian chuckles, kissing my forehead.

“Alright, baby, let’s make Daddy’s pussy happy.”

When Brian’s fingers slide into my pussy again, they’re relentless. He’s stepped it up to three fingers, the long, skilled digits curling against my g-spot. His other hand comes around my side and he slips it into my dress to cup my breast. 

“My little girl is  _ so dirty _ ,” he growls, his voice not quite loud enough to drown out the squelch of his fingers inside me. “Letting Daddy finger fuck her in his car out here in the driveway where anyone can see. I bet you’d let me drag you out of here and fuck you over the bonnet, wouldn’t you? You’d let me tear those lacy little panties off and stuff them in your mouth so the neighbors wouldn’t hear, and then you’d let me fuck you, let me fill up that pretty little cunt with my come-”

Brian stops mid-sentence as I finally come, the image of what he’s describing in my mind as my cunt pulses around his fingers. I cry out, breathy moans echoing around the car. Brian coaxes me though it, whispering how much of a good girl I am in my ear while his fingers continue to work my pussy. Eventually he stops, just lightly cupping me once I become too sensitive. 

“Feel better, baby?” he asks, leaning his head back a little to look me in the eye. I nod, licking my lips. 

“Yes, Daddy. Thank you.” 

We moan into each others mouths as we kiss, my hand coming up to cup his jaw. 

“Take me to bed, Daddy?” I whisper against his lips. Brian nods, pressing one more chaste kiss to my mouth. 

* * *

Later that night, Brian and I lay in bed, the sheets wrapped around our naked bodies. My head is pillowed on Brian's chest, fingers playing through the light dusting of hair on it. His own fingers are dancing lightly up and down my arm, his nose pressed to my crown. 

“Brian?”

He hums into my hair, squeezing my arm gently. 

“I was thinking…”

I pause, pulling away from Brian's chest to prop myself up on my elbow. I look into Brian's eyes, unable to help reaching up with my free hand to brush the curls off of his forehead. 

“You know how we talked about me going for my doctorate?”

Brian nods, suddenly looking very interested. I bite my lip and place my hand back on my chest. 

“Well, there are a few Universities that I'm interested in and they start accepting applications soon, so I think I'm going to go for it.”

Brian's eyes light up and he breaks into a wide grin. 

“Yes! You should do it!” he encourages excitedly, wrapping his long fingers around my hand and squeezing it. I bite my lip and nod, smiling back. Then my nerves kick in, and I look away. My eyes settle on our clasped hands, my foot brushing his leg as I adjust it. 

“I was also thinking, if I do…” I begin, but the words get caught in my throat. To be honest, I have no idea how he's going to respond to what I'm about to ask him. But I can tell by the way that his body tenses that he's just as nervous as I am, and I hate making him feel that way. So, I clear my throat and look up at him. 

“I don't want you to give me the checks anymore, or the expense account,” I say. I see confusion cross his features, and then sadness, and I realize he's misunderstanding me. 

“Oh, God, no! I still want to be with you!”

Brian's face melts into relief at my words and he nods, so I continue. 

“I want to be with you just to be with you. I don't think  _ girlfriend _ is the right word, but I want to be your partner… not just your baby girl.”

My words end softly, and I bite my lip again. Brian's silent for a moment and my panic builds. What if he doesn't want this? What if what I'm asking for is too serious? How stupid is it of me to think that a rockstar like Brian May would want me to be his partner? He'll never want to take me on the red carpet or dedicate songs to me at concerts or -

“Iris, you've always  _ been _ my partner,” he murmurs, reaching up to cup my cheek. He uses his thumb to gently pull my lower lip from between my teeth and I see tears fill his eyes. Mine sting with my own tears as he continues.

“I love you, darling, and I always will. I want to take care of you, and I want to share my life with you. No one else. Just you. So, if you don't want the checks anymore, that's fine. But you are always,  _ always _ going to be my partner.”

By the time he's finished our tears have spilled over. I have no idea what to say, so instead I surge down and press a kiss to his mouth. 

“I love you, Brian May,” I whisper against his lips. He grins, kissing me again. 

“I love you, too, Iris Kollins.”

I close the space between us again, nibbling his bottom lip. He gently wraps his arms around my waist and turns us over, his body covering mine. He pulls away, kissing the tip of my nose before he looks at me. 

“I do hope you know this means that you're going to become a regular fixture on my Instagram,” he suddenly says, drawing a loud laugh from me. I nod, brushing his curls back.

“I don't mind that at all,” I say, laughing again when he leans around me to grab his phone from the bedside table. 

“What do you say we tell the world that I belong to you, huh?” 

I nod excitedly, sitting up against the headboard with him. He unlocks his phone and opens Instagram, then browses the photos in his gallery. I know immediately which photo he's going to choose, and, sure enough, he stops scrolling when he gets to the photos from a few months ago. It was the day he'd been trying on outfits for the Oscars. He'd taken me with him as he hated clothes shopping, and I'd spent most of the day sitting in the most comfortable armchair in existence watching him parade in and out of the dressing room. Once he'd decided on an outfit and had me take a sneak peek photo to post for his fans, he'd called me over to take a photo with him. 

The photo turned out to be amazing. He'd pulled me into his chest and raised his phone, snapping a selfie from above. He'd been looking at the camera with a smile, but I'd had my head tucked under his chin and my eyes focused on his face. He'd immediately declared that he loved the photo, and had a print made the same day to frame. Now it sits beside our bed. 

“No peeking,” he says after he selects the photo and a filter, turning away from me so that he could type his message. After a few moments I hear my own phone chime and know that it's going to be an Instagram update. I eye him with a grin as I reach over and pick it up, quickly opening Instagram. The photo is the first on my feed and I scroll down to read what he'd written. 

_ It's time you all were finally introduced to someone very special. A year and a half ago I met this amazing woman. I never thought that someone could steal my heart the way she has, but, as someone wise once said, love is a crazy little thing. My love, my partner, my darling, I'm so glad that the universe brought us together. - xo Bri _


End file.
